


The Winter Never Came

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Unhappy Ending, girl!Harry, girl!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:24:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I knew it was the last time I would ever see him. Two whole months we had spent together, and now it had all come down to nothing in the blink of an eye, the patter of a mouse’s heartbeat.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Winter Never Came

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this for my English GCSE controlled assessment (I hope my teacher like gay because half the girls have written fanfiction!), so if it seems a bit shit then that’s probably why. The title is taken from a song called Set the Tigers Free by Villagers, and the piece also contains Noah and the Whale lyrics somewhere if you're looking hard enough :)

I knew it was the last time I would ever see him. Two whole months we had spent together, and now it had all come down to nothing in the blink of an eye, the patter of a mouse’s heartbeat.

*

The last of the summer sunshine rained down on us through the leafy cover of the tree we’d sought shelter under. A butterfly observed me from its perch on a purple wildflower. I glared back at it until it flew away. Despite the unquestionably summery surroundings, there was an autumnal chill in the air. I could feel its icy grip beneath the façade of the warm breeze. Occasionally it would hit me suddenly and chill me to the bone – or maybe that had more to do with external circumstances. Above me, the rustling foliage was rusting at the edges, a few of the leaves already donning the russet brown shades that signified winter was on the way. Ominous grey clouds lurked on the edge of the horizon. I could taste the electricity of an approaching thunderstorm on my tongue. This was where I had first met him, all those weeks ago that seemed like a lifetime back then. It had changed since then, though. The grass was longer now.

***

I never normally cut straight across the field after school, mostly because I know that Mr Jones would murder me for wrecking the grass before he has the opportunity to plant his carrots. He’s been threatening to grow them for around 3 years now. But today is different. Today I want to get home and away from my school as fast as possible. Since my bike has decided to break, I’m forced to take the shortcut, and carrots be damned. That’s when I see him. Underneath the tree, where me and Lily Stewart once carved our names into the bark and declared ourselves to be engaged, sits an unknown teenager. Even from this distance, I can make out the sharp angle of his jaw and his pale, dextrous fingers tapping out a rhythm on the harsh denim of his jeans. His mouth moves silently. After a moment I realise he must be singing under his breath. I know who he is, of course. Very little of consequence ever happens in this miniscule village in the middle of nowhere, so the upcoming visit of Mr Jones’ grandson all the way from England was bound to set chins wagging. Without having even met the boy, I know he’s called Josh, he’s 16, and a dozen or more rumours, supposed facts and bits of gossip about him that probably aren’t even true. However, I guess everyone neglected to tell me he was attractive.

*

As my shadow falls over his seated form, Josh looks up at me with eyes that I notice suddenly are the exact shade of brown as his hair: so dark you could be dragged into them and probably never find the way out, yet sparkling with merriment and intrigue. A crooked grin breaks over his face.

“Hi,” he begins without introducing himself, as though he knows that I already have been subjected to his potted biography over the past few weeks. One dimple appears on his cheek that I certainly don’t want to run my fingers over. I have lost the ability to speak. Inside my head I can think of a hundred witty and insightful comments I could say to this boy, yet my mouth no longer seems able to function. All I can think to blurt out is,

“I’m Niall!” Cringing inwardly, I half expect him to stand up and leave while he can. Instead he simply pats the ground next to him as a clear invitation for me to sit down. As if in a trance, I do so.

*

“Do you live here then?” asks Josh with what sounds like genuine intrigue but I can’t be sure. Even so I can’t stop the smile that widens across my face as I reply.

“Yeah, I have done all my life.”

“What’s it like here?” For a moment I pause and bite my lip, unsure how exactly to provide a sufficient answer. To me this is all my life has ever been: rolling hills and open skies and a year split into lambing and shearing rather than seasons. Secretly, though, I’ve always wondered how it must seem from an outsider’s perspective.

“It’s alright,” I settle on, choosing to remain vague so I don’t accidentally do something as moronic as telling him he has the prettiest accent I’ve ever heard. “There’s not much to do, though.” For some reason he smirks at that.

*

I’m more than a little taken aback when he abruptly rises from his position on the grass. I can feel my eyes growing wide in confusion as he laughs and explains himself.

“Come show me what you do around here, then!” Once again his eyes are practically glimmering with amusement; blushing, I take his proffered hand and decidedly ignore the spark of electricity that shoots along my arm at the contact. There is no question in my mind whether to follow him or not. I would do anything just to hear him laugh again.

***

That day I took him to play football in the abandoned field behind the school that no one else seemed to know about but me. The next day we went fishing in the stream where I once caught a carp the length of my arm. By the end of the week, I’d already forgotten life without him. Josh was the summer and the summer was Josh. In the midst of my adolescent naivety, I thought it would last forever.

*

A chill breeze rippled across me from the North, causing goosebumps to rise along the exposed skin of my bare arms. I shivered. Autumn was definitely on the way. Beside me, my bike lay on the ground, gleaming red against the dull chartreuse of the grass. It was as good as new.

***

Aching from the 5 mile long walk I’ve just undertaken, I arrive home to discover Harriet and Louise lurking in the corner of the yard and giggling like teenage schoolgirls. For a moment I consider the possibility that their dreams have come true and Scarlett Johansson has just arrived out of the blue and announced she is madly in love with both of them. Then I dismiss this as unlikely. What actually is the cause of their excitement becomes clear when I turn the corner into the driveway. Much to my surprise, Josh is for some reason stood in the yard wearing nothing but a pair of paint-splattered jeans. He’s also bent over what appears to be my bike. A hand suddenly tightens around my arm, making me jump with fright.

“Your boyfriend is really hot,” whispers my sister ineloquently into my ear. Clearly she’s trying hard not to laugh. Choosing to ignore the jab about mine and Josh’s purely platonic relationship, I jab her in the side with the pointier of my two elbows. Giggling hysterically by this point, Louise does nothing to help.

“I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, Harriet,” I clap both hands on her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down. “But you’re actually gay.”

* 

Although I was expecting a smile and an equally sarcastic comment in response, Harriet’s expression for some reason drops like a stone into water, leaving only ripples of her previous merriment. Frown lines crease her acne-littered forehead.

“What’s going on with you and Josh?” Despite the circumstances, Harriet’s voice is unexpectedly serious. This simply serves to make me even more nervous, which is probably why I launch immediately onto the defensive.

“Nothing! We’re just friends! Not everything has to have a homosexual agenda, you know!” Even to my own ears, my protests sound ridiculously guilty. The only problem is, they’re the truth.

*

Sighing, Harriet pulls away just a little to look deep into my cerulean eyes that are nothing like her own. (We’ve asked our parents numerous times which one of us is adopted. They always just laugh.)

“You do know he’s only here for the summer right?” Although there’s no way she could know how deep her words cut into my chest, they cause a searing pain to shoot along my nerve endings, until they reach an empty hollow where my heart used to be. Her next sentence is simply a twist of the blade. “Just… don’t get your heart broken, yeah?”

“Whatever,” I mutter. I’m desperate to escape. But what with my sister and her girlfriend on either side of me, almost pinning me in place, there is nowhere to run or hide.

*

If it wasn’t for the fact that Josh chooses that exact moment to come striding over to our small gathering, the excruciating conversation would doubtless have continued. However Harriet instead smiles sympathetically at me and drags her girlfriend away with a catcall over her shoulder along the lines of ‘leaving you two to it’. Josh just rolls his eyes.

“I fixed your bike, by the way,” he smiles in a way that I know is just for me.

“Thanks,” I mutter, trying not to blush like an utter fool. There’s silence between us until I sigh and reach for his calloused, oil-stained hand to begin escorting him towards the house. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink for your hard work.” It’s not until we reach the door that I realise he still hasn’t let go of my hand.

***

It was only as the slowly setting sun finally began to dip beneath the horizon, painting the sky a millions shades of pink and gold, that I realised how long we had lain in the same position beneath the aged boughs of the apple tree. Yet still I was determined to remain there until I was given no choice. Pasty and translucent, the moon hung awkwardly in the edge of my vision like an unwanted guest.

“I’m going to miss him.” Josh’s sudden speech after hours of silence was so surprising that I almost gasped audibly. Almost instantaneously, the two of us sat up. I wrapped my arms around Josh’s shaking body without a second thought, and whispered the only words I could think to say into the matted tufts of his grass littered hair.

“I know you will.”

*

What else could I have said? Despite having been practically inseparable for 2 months, I was still far from being the older boy’s most intimate companion. How could I possibly comfort him over this great emotional upheaval? Rather than try to find words that would never be enough, I simply held him to my chest and allowed his tears to stain the front of my t-shirt a darker shade of grey. Whether or not that helped, I couldn’t be sure.

*

“But I’m going to miss you more… is that wrong?” His words were muffled against the fabric, but they still seemed loud in the silence of the countryside. In that moment I nearly ruined it, by saying ‘I love you’, and nearly meaning it. What with the first twinkling stars breaking through the mauve sky of early twilight, and the distinct lack of distance between us, it seemed like the sort of romantic movie scenario in which those three words could be deemed appropriate. But I didn’t say it. The words clogged up my throat until I could barely breathe, yet they remained stuck. Eventually Josh pulled away from my neck to speak again, and the moment was gone forever.

“My dad will be here soon.” My bottom lip was red raw from having worried it with my teeth throughout the day, and I saw his eyes come to rest on it for just a second too long. My heart, along with time itself, stopped.

* 

Before I could stop him, he was kissing me. His lips were warm and chapped and tasted slightly of salty tears. He smelled of freshly cut grass and sweat and strawberry shampoo. When he pulled away his normally pallid complexion was burning the same flattering hue of fire-engine red as my own, but his eyes were sparkling like the first time I had met him. I blinked. I’d never been kissed before.

“I’ll miss you,” I blurted out. Smiling weakly, Josh rested his sweat-sheened forehead against my own.

“I’ll see you again - we’ll meet up some time.” But we both knew that he wouldn’t, and that we wouldn’t. Safe in that knowledge he stood up to walk away, and I let the weight of the world, which had been lifted for the 6 glorious weeks of summer, fall back onto my shoulders.

*

My life would go on.

*

Winter would come, and eventually summer would arrive again, full of hope and aspirations. But I would never forget the boy with the kind brown eyes who fixed my bike and broke my heart, and whose face would be forever etched into the back of my mind as a slowly fading memory.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for angst :(


End file.
